Leaving marks
by Andra-ggfan
Summary: Jess and Rory spend one night together,because that's all they'll ever have. No real timeline,somewhere in season 7.


**A/N: This story has been in my head for days now so I finally decided to write it down. It's angsty and the rating is there for a reason so beware. I am sorry for all the repetitions, and believe me there are a lot, but in my mind all the "and's", "but's" and "so's" give it a nice rhythm and every thing else that is repeated, well…I just thought it needed to be said again and again. I am also thinking of writing a sequel so please tell me what you think. That being said…on with the story.**

"Let me be in charge, just for now. Let me be the one that controls our relationship. I want you to shut up and enjoy this. Knowing that it will never happen again. Because I have Logan and you have your blond chick. But tonight…it's just us…" That's what she tells him and he agrees. He knows they both want more…but it will never happen. So they enjoy they're night together…because that's all they have.

She kisses him gently…lovingly. They feel it and know it. But they deny it. It's just sex. They keep telling themselves that. Nothing more. And she lowers her lips. They're no longer on his. They are kissing his neck. Her teeth are biting softly, just enough to make him groan. Her tongue is drawing patterns on his skin and he wants to do that too but he can't. She's the one that controls their makeshift relationship. But it's more real then anything they've had before. So he gives in. He allows it. Her tongue is now slipping in and out of his ear while her teeth are biting his earlobe. It feels good. So good that it makes him want to flip them around but he stops. Their night. Her rules. For now. And she lowers her mouth even more. As her hands and nails are playing with his neck her tongue is drawing circles around his nipples. And after a while she starts sucking them, her teeth still biting once in a while. She lowers herself, while holding his hands with her own. She wants to kiss every inch of his body, everywhere where other lips have been. It's not right. He is hers. He'll always be hers. Just like she will always and only be his. No matter who touches her, she knows it is he. No matter who else is by her side, in her bed, holding her hand, fucking her she always knows that it should to be him. So she tries to erase the memories that other lips have burned into his skin. And she kisses him. All over. Anywhere that she can. He lost his shirt a while ago but that's it. She takes her hands of his and prays that he will play nice still, and she unbuttons his jeans. It will do for now. And as her hands go back to holding his, her mouth goes to kissing him just above the hemline of his pants. And her tongue darts down, and licks the soft skin that is hidden by the fabric and they know that they have never been happier then they are now.

But he has had enough. It is his moment now. So he flips them over and crushes her with his weight. No holding back, no hands supporting him. Just her against him. And it feels to damn good. Right. It feels right. Deaf ears meet her complaints and cries. "You've played enough, Ror. My turn." And he unbuckles her belt and takes her hands into his left one and raises them above their heads. And she grabs the headboard of his bed and he kisses her passionately. She knows he never kisses his girlfriend that way. That's just for her. And it feels better then anything. And his lips keep touching hers and his tongue keeps exploring her mouth and his hands are roaming down. And he grabs her t-shirt and rips it. And after biting her lower lip for the last time he starts kissing her collarbone and down, in the shaft between her breasts. His hands grab her bra and pull it down and his mouth covers her left nipple swiftly. And it feels like heaven. Better then Logan or Dean ever made her feel. Much better. It is like they were kids exploring and he is a man knowing. So she arches her back and prays that he will keep doing that, because if he stopped she knows she would beg him to do it again. But now she enjoys it and his hands are grabbing her. It's not gentle, nor is it sweet…it's passion and love and longing and yearning and anger and hurt and every other emotion they have gathered in the years that they have known each other. And his hands are scratching her back and his mouth is playing with her nipples and she screams because it is him and he feels so fucking good. And she starts begging because she wants to feel him inside of her, going in and out, but he doesn't give in yet. She lowers her hands and he doesn't stop her this time.

And they are both free so she digs her long fingernails into his back and leaves her mark…so that she, the blond whore that has him now would know that someone else was there. It's not just that, it's the need to do something while he is teasing her. But the main thing that drives her is the thing that drives dogs that piss on trees…marking territory…He is hers. Forever. As well as she is his. Logan never makes her feel like that. And she digs her fingernails deeper and he pulls her pants and panties off. She is now almost naked and he is not. But she doesn't feel ashamed or embarrassed. The only thing that she feels is the need. The need of having him inside her. But he keeps teasing her. His mouth is going lower and lower, kissing her flat belly and darting his tongue in and out of her bellybutton, just as she was doing earlier and his hands are on her breasts and she is arching forward as much as she can. And he goes back up and looks into her eyes and kisses her…almost chastely. It's love and they know it. But they sill deny it. Just sex. Another beautiful lie.

He unclasps her bra and pulls it off so that she is now completely naked. And she sees the adoration in his eyes. And even though she is sick of being adored the way he does it it's just…magic. And it makes her want him even more, even though she didn't think that was possible. So she cups his face in his hands and returns his earlier kiss, just as chaste. And he sees the adoration in her eyes. And he attacks her neck again because this can't be about love.

He is kissing her shoulder and she takes the opportunity to slip her hands inside his jeans. He freezes for a second as she caresses him and she finds the elastic of his boxers and slides her hand down. And he groans into her and bites hard, leaving yet another mark in her flawless skin. Her legs are now trying to undress him and if the situation would have bee different he would have laughed at her futile attempts but it's getting impossible to resist any longer so he lowers his own jeans and boxers so that they are both naked now and looks her in the eyes again, wishing, for a fraction of a second, that she would stop him before they ruin both of their almost perfect lives. But she doesn't because she can't, because she knows that their lives are nowhere near perfect. And with another kiss he thrusts into her hard and she bites her lip until it bleeds trying not to scream. But as he pulls out and thrusts again she can't help it anymore and screams and it makes his eyes darken even more with desire. And as their bodies find their rhythm and her hands get tangled in his hair they know that this is when they are supposed to die, because going on with life as it was it's simply not an option. But no lightning bolt strikes them so he continues his movements and she meets his every thrust until they both get so close to the edge that it's unbearable. And she moans his name and he gathers up all his strength and thrusts again, harder than he even knew he could and she scream because it's too much and her toes curl and her hands grab the sheets and pull and fireworks and bombs and cars and every other thing on the plane explode in her head. And he feels her muscles contract around him so he let's go as well and his hands grab her and squeeze her so hard that he knows she'll have bruises the next day. And it's over and with a few weak thrusts he falls down on her and her hands let go of the sheets and get tangled in his hair once again, lazily wiping the sweat off his forehead, and they both fall asleep.

Hours later she wakes up with a pair of familiar arms wrapped around her and she looks at him as he smiles in his sleep, knowing that he is smiling because of her. And she looks at the clock that reads 5.30 in bright red numbers and gently gets up from the bed and starts looking for her clothes. And she knows she should stay because maybe they could work it out and find a way to be together but they will most likely fight again and say the things that they never mean to say but somehow always get said between them. Because it is what it is, him, her, and it will never be different, no matter how much they wish it would. So she gets dressed and pulls his Clash t-shirt on and bends down and gently kisses him on the lips before whispering the three words that she would never say out loud to him.

"I love you…"

Maybe that was their great parting line.


End file.
